


So, Y/N?

by QueenoftheHobbits



Series: Soft Thighs Series [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, overweight reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:39:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7017199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suggested by anon: You overhear Steve and Bucky talking about you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, Y/N?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to suggest ideas for this series if you have any xx

Normally when walking through the Tower you’d walk straight into the living area without a thought, but today you heard talking and slowed your pace recognising the voices as those belonging to the two super soldiers that ran around the tower and every now and then broke a few doors on accident. Super strength was a danger to doors.

You stopped just outside the doorway to the living area, leaning against the wall, part of you felt bad for listening knowing it could be especially personal, but part of you was far too curious to turn around or announce yourself. 

“So, Y/N, Huh?” That was Steve’s voice and that was certainly your name, your curiosity peaked and part of you worried what they might say...you were for the most part confident. Confident in your ability as a member of the team, of your appearance (even after years of people telling you you couldn’t be confident because of your size), of yourself. You were pretty confident...but insecurities still laid in wait underneath it all waiting to hear something to burst free. There were always going to be niggling doubts.

“ _Steve.._.” The two were unaware of your listening in from the other side of the door. Bucky was leaning against the table next to where Steve was sat, his sigh telling more than his words. He really didn’t want to have this conversation...feelings were weird and he was still coming to terms with them and how to talk about them after spending so long being unable to. The words to describe how he was feeling or what he was thinking didn’t come as easily to him as he wanted them to.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you’re not interested!” 

“I...I like her, alright? Yeah, I like her...a lot.” You peaked around the corner, Steve was making a face at Bucky that said he wasn’t really saying all there was to say, you found your round cheeks growing warm at the confession, you hadn’t thought a man like Bucky would be interested in you...you weren’t exactly Natasha or Wanda or any number of women who turned their head when he walked by, “Don’t give me that look! I...I don’t know how to talk to her, y’know? You keep telling me I used to be good with women but it’s been 70 years and I can’t remember half of that. But I wish I could.” You felt your heart break just a little bit more at the confession that Bucky was struggling, that all he wanted was to remember and he couldn’t...Steve had been taking his sweet time in realising that Bucky wasn’t James Barnes from the 1940s and he wasn’t the Winter Soldier either he was now Bucky and he wasn’t entirely sure who he was, but he was getting there. 

“Buck...”

“I wish I could tell her how funny she is, and how talking to her before I go to sleep makes the nightmares better and less frequent, and I wish I could tell her how much I appreciate how kind she is...I mean you’ve seen her! She’s so nice to me, she treats me like i’m just another guy and not...” Your breath caught in your throat, darting back behind the wall as Bucky moved around, your lips curling into a smile at the praise and then falling at the conflict that rode in Bucky’s voice, your arms wrapping around your plump waist. 

“You know none of that was your fault...”

“I know, but it doesn’t remove the fact that I did that stuff...and that everyone else looks at me like i’m a murderer...and I am, I just didn’t have a choice.” Bucky was one of those men you’d learnt over time that would take the full guilt for everything even if he didn’t have to, so many others in his situation would scream complete innocence and yet no matter how many times you told him he was innocent of what he couldn’t control he’d always blame himself...it was as endearing as it was sad...and it made you love him more for it. 

“I know...I know. What else?” Because you did love him...as much as you tried to deny it because you weren’t even sure you could class yourselves as friends. Sure you helped him when he was having nightmares and made him food...but you didn’t really talk except in the middle of the night when you both couldn’t sleep. 

“Huh?” 

“What else do you wish you could tell Y/N?” You felt bad for listening still, but part of you thought that if he couldn’t tell you face to face then maybe this was the only way? Maybe this was what Bucky needed, for you to eavesdrop (but perhaps that was just wishful thinking).

“That I think she’s beautiful...even though I know she sometimes thinks she’s not...that she thinks she’s not pretty enough...but she is, she’s soft and she’s warm and she’s beautiful and I...sometimes I don’t have nightmares because I have dreams about her. And that...that I don’t just like her, I love her, but i’m scared that i’m not good enough.” 

He was right, you sometimes didn’t think you were pretty enough, you knew you were fat and sometimes you’d let all those years worth of being told you’d look better if you lost weight take over and you’d wonder if you were just lumbering and large and if your thighs were too big and if your stomach was too large...and hearing that, hearing that he thought _he_ wasn’t good enough, that he thought you were _too good,_ that you took away the nightmares, and that he loved you...hearing that not only pulled at your heart and made the breath rush out of you...but it also had you stepping around the corner and into the room the two men occupied. 

“Do you really mean that?” You watched Bucky freeze up, heard the whirring from his left arm as it tensed, catching his eye as he looked over his shoulder at you...and for once you saw what might have been fear in his eyes, but fear that wasn’t created by the things he’d gone through...instead it was because of you. Because he had no idea as to how you’d react...and the last thing he wanted was for you to avoid him. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you. 

Your eyes followed Steve as he unseat himself, taking a step away from Bucky and moving to scuttle past you and out of the living area, “I’ll, uh, i’ll leave you guys to talk...” You two were left alone and you found yourself stepping closer and closer to him, even more so when he nodded in response to your question. 

“Bucky...you are more than good enough...you’re...you are everything I want and a good portion of what I need...I love you and I would never want you to think that you weren’t good enough for me...because sometimes I think you’re too good.” And you did, he was strong and kind and handsome and sometimes you didn’t feel beautiful or kind enough for him because he was something special and you knew that without a doubt.

“No...no, i’m...I’ve done bad stuff...” Despite his protests one of your hands gripped his, the other tilting his head to look at you rather than at his metal arm that he saw as the root of all the bad things he’d ever done. 

“But you’re not a bad man, and that shows in everything you do. You are not to blame for what Hydra did. You are good, so good and I love you because of that.” There was silence for a few beats, enough to make you nervous, worried that you’d upset him or gone too far or-and then he was kissing you.

Not the sort of kiss you expected from Bucky, not rough and passionate, but rather an almost nervous gentle press of his lips against yours, his hand cupping your jaw drawing you closer, your hands resting lightly on his chest and you feel so safe and so loved in that moment. In the way his other hand curls around the breadth of your waist and slides to your large thigh, in the way his lips are hesitant to push too hard, and the way he makes your toes curl. Because in that moment it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’ve both been through...because you’re together, you’re kissing, you love him and he loves you and it’s undeniably near perfect. 

You both pull back from each other, your forehead pressed against his, your noses touching, your eyes locking, “I love you...I love you _so_ much.” and you believe him whole-heartedly because it’s all right there in those blue eyes.


End file.
